


from daydreams and waking up

by cori_the_bloody



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, a series of unfortunate events was a formative piece of media for me, and one of the moments that stands out the boldest in my memory, for the first time after their death, is when the baudelaires remember something unpleasant about their parents, so that's it, that's my explanation for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28784214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: It happens for the first time during one of her dad and tía’s classic arguments—or, sorry, heated discussions—where they pretend like Julie’s not in the room. The remembering something harsh about her mom.
Relationships: Julie Molina & Rose Molina, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	from daydreams and waking up

It happens for the first time during one of her dad and tía’s classic arguments—or, sorry, _heated discussions_ —where they pretend like Julie’s not in the room. The remembering something harsh about her mom. Something that makes Julie’s stomach clench with guilt.

“…but stability is more important than what sixteen-year-olds want,” tía is saying.

To which her dad volleys back, “I don’t disagree, but—”

“Good, then we’re all on the same page,” tía cuts in. “A tour is out of the question.”

“She’s not your daughter, Victoria.”

Her dad says it kindly enough, but firm. And tía flinches and that’s when it happens. The memory.

Just a quick flash—of being over her aunt’s house with her mom and sitting at the kitchen table, occupied with schoolwork and coloring books and chopping vegetables and any other number of things because the memory’s not of one moment but of a dozen years of moments. And Julie’s sitting there taking in their back-and-forth and wishing she had a sister until her mom pushes tía just a little too hard.

When it came to her sister, Rose Molina never could apologize well.

“…course I want your input,” her dad is saying by the time Julie manages to shake off the jolt of discomfort. “I just—can you ease up a little bit? I’m still thinking about it, okay? I’m not saying yes or no right now. I’m thinking.”

“Fine,” tía says, and she turns to Julie, eyebrows raised in a silent _be happy, girlie, it’s a much better deal than you’d’ve gotten from me_.

Julie’s heart sounds so loud in her ears.

Considering the matter done, tía stomps out of the kitchen.

“So, we’ll talk about this later, yeah?” her dad asks, trying to catch her eye.

“Yes.” She thinks she maybe gives him a thumbs up as she backs out of the room. “Please.”

“Is everything okay?” she hears him ask.

But she’s turned and made a break for the stairs before he fully gets the question out.

###

Julie does a decent job putting the thought out of her mind for the rest of the night, but she still finds the incident to be like when you accidentally don’t turn the faucet off all the way. A slow drip starts somewhere deep inside her and the harder she digs around to find it, the more damaged her internal piping gets.

Because now she can’t stop thinking about how her mom used to take Julie’s last pad because she was running low and then forget to restock for either of them and how she used to make fun of her dad for a few days after he’d get his hair cut always just a little too short for her liking and how she kept buying more and more plants just expecting that Julie would pitch in with the watering.

It feels like betrayal, for some reason, remembering Rose’s flaws. Her mom’s her hero, after all. Aren’t you supposed to worship your heroes?

###

“Whatcha got there?”

Julie knows she’s doomed the second she hugs her notebook to her chest protectively—Luke’s boundary issues and all—but it’s a reflex.

He widens his eyes at her. “It’s gonna be like that, huh?”

She stands from the studio couch, ready to squirm away the second he makes his move. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He doesn’t buy it for a second. “Look at you,” he says, nodding at her. “Squaring off for battle.”

She arches an eyebrow at him, giving up denial for pointed silence.

“You know you can’t win this.” His tongue is pressed up against his teeth, and she loves this devilish smile on him. She wonders if telling him so would be distracting…

“You’re cute when you think you’re being devious.”

Color rises in his cheeks, but he doesn’t stop staring directly at her, laser-focused. “I am being devious.”

Carlos, Reggie, Alex—any of them try intimidation by way of staring contest and, nine times out of ten, she can outlast them without even breaking a sweat. With Luke, though…

He pounces the second she starts to feel the fluttering in her kneecaps. Literally. He leaps over the coffee table. And she turns but she barely makes it a step before he’s gripped the notebook and falls partway through her on his way toward colliding with the couch, wrenching it out of her hands in the process.

“Dang it, Luke.” She makes a grab for the notebook but he’s already popping to his feet and dancing out of reach. “It’s not ready yet, so just give it back.”

“But you might need my help getting it ready,” he says, and he’s already reading as he moves around the piano.

Julie feels the pressure inside her building, pipes about to break down completely.

“ _Black chipped nails and peanut-butter smile, I’d love to hear about your day but you never sit for a while_ ,” Luke starts to read out loud. “ _Stubborn like a storm and petty to boot, hope I grow up to be just like you. ‘Cause I’m from daydreams and waking up, just like you._ ” He repeats the last line, more to himself than to her, trying out a melody. “ _I’m from daydreams and waking up, just like you._ ”

“Why’d—?” she starts to ask, but she has to stop to swallow down the gush rising higher in her throat. “Why’d you sing it like that?”

He doesn’t look at her, still trying to puzzle something out. “Like what?”

“Like…like a lullaby.”

“Dunno. Guess it feels like it’s a “Landslide” kinda deal, right?” He does look up at her then.

She blinks. _Oh._

After a second, she manages, “I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot.”

He smiles, and this one is an apology. For what, exactly, she’s not sure. “I bet she was a wicked performer. Just enough ‘riot’ to her ‘grrrl’.”

Julie laughs—partially because it’s such a Luke thing to say and partially from the relief of the drip slowing to a stop.

“I think you two would have gotten along really well,” she says after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He comes back from behind the piano to hand her the notebook. “I like it so far.”

She accepts it, stares down at her work for a minute. Sees it through Luke’s eyes. “Me, too.”

###

After that, it doesn’t take her more than a day to finish the song. She decides to call it _Hero_.


End file.
